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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289191">command me to be well</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace'>Singofsolace</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/F, F/M, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Starvation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:27:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>or, the five times Zelda Spellman fainted, and the one time she didn’t</p><p>Zelda Spellman might've claimed to have never been sick a day in her life, but there are at least five people who would beg to differ.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman &amp; Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>command me to be well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: While it seems a bit silly to credit Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa as the owner of these characters and this universe, considering he himself stole/borrowed/recreated them, let's give it a go. I do not own these characters, nor the universe in which they live. They belong to Archie Comics, which sent Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa himself a cease and desist for his blatant fanfic-turned-play, "Archie's Weird Fantasy," not too long ago. Please do not sue me; I am an unemployed adjunct professor writing fanfiction purely for entertainment purposes. I have very little money, but a whole lot of love for complicated female characters. While I do not wish to be sued, I would very much enjoy being given a position as show-runner for writing some great fanfic. I eagerly await your email.</p><p>Content Warnings (feel free to skip this if you don’t want slight spoilers):</p><p>i. Child abuse/starvation<br/>ii. Explicit sex; extremely dubious consent of the Spellwood variety (please know I only write this with the intention of offering psychological background/depth to the Spellwood relationship we see in Part Two—especially with regard to the Caligari Spell)<br/>iii. Minor original character death<br/>iv. Discussion of infertility and magical consent issues<br/>v. explicit consensual sex<br/>+ explicit consensual sex</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>i.</p><p>Hilda was furious. At fifteen, there was still quite a lot she didn’t understand about her family, but one thing she <em>did</em> know was that her father was wrong to lock Zelda in the library for days without food or water. As far as punishments went, it was an awfully cruel one—though Hilda suspected her sister was accustomed to such treatment. Zelda often came out of their father’s study on unsteady feet, refusing to speak of what had taken place inside. But Hilda and Zelda shared a room—there was nothing about their bodies that could truly be hidden from one another for long—and so Hilda knew that her sister was familiar with corporal punishment.</p><p>Thus, having seen neither hide nor hair of her sister for three days after Zelda spoke out of turn at black mass, Hilda was worried. She didn’t know how long a baptized witch could go without food or water, but she didn’t like the idea of her sister wasting away in the family library all alone.</p><p>So, determined to check in on Zelda despite her father having enchanted the library locked and sealed, Hilda went about learning everything she could about prison spells—because that was what it was, wasn’t it? Their father had imprisoned Zelda in her own home.</p><p>It only took a few hours’ time for Hilda to discover a weak point in the spell’s perimeter: the fireplace.</p><p>(Hilda had always had a knack for picking spells apart, much like seam-ripping an old frock).</p><p>As it was, Father had forgotten to put extra spells in place to block outside access from the chimney.</p><p>Hilda gathered a basket full of food, which she enchanted to be self-replenishing, as well as a jug of water that would never run dry. After that, all it took was a simple shrinking spell, combined with an anti-burning charm, and she was able to drop down the chimney and into the library like a Satanic Santa Claus.</p><p>Emerging from the fireplace—which held no more than embers due to lack of attention—Hilda reversed the shrinking spell with a satisfied “pop.” Whoever said domestic spells were a useless waste of time (Edward did—quite often, in fact) clearly had never tried to breach an imprisonment spell.</p><p>“Hilda?!”</p><p>Zelda was bent over a writing desk, translating an enormous Latin scripture into three separate languages. She worked by candlelight, though it appeared she’d let it burn all the way down to its quick.</p><p>“I’ve brought you some food and water, sister,” said Hilda, holding up the basket in her hands as if to prove her words were true.</p><p>Zelda blinked once, twice, three times, as if her eyes were not to be trusted. Straightening her spine, Zelda placed her quill down with a shaking hand.</p><p>“Father said I’m not allowed to eat until I’ve translated this entire tome into French, Russian, and Mandarin,” said Zelda tiredly, her voice hoarse from lack of use—and water.</p><p>“Zelds, I don’t care what Father says. He’s <em>starving </em>you,” said Hilda, closing Zelda’s book despite her sister’s protest and placing the food basket on top of it.</p><p>“I deserve it. I spoke out of turn—humiliated him in front of the entire coven,” said Zelda, her eyes unfocused. “Get your basket off my book, Hilda.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Hildie, please—”</p><p>“No,” Hilda repeated, taking the jug of water out and pouring Zelda a glass. “Drink up.”</p><p>Zelda didn’t immediately take the water, but in the end, her unbearable thirst won out. She drank it far too quickly, like a woman who’d been lost in a desert for a week.</p><p>“Slowly, now, Sister—”</p><p>But Zelda had already drank too much too fast. She choked on her last mouthful, droplets sputtering everywhere, including on her parchment. Wordlessly, Hilda handed Zelda a handkerchief before going around the desk and placing a hand on her sister’s back.</p><p>“I’ve enchanted the jug to refill itself. You don’t have to worry about it running out.”</p><p>Zelda coughed and coughed until finally she caught her breath. “Thank you, Hildie.”</p><p>“Please, won’t you have some bread and cheese?” said Hilda, gathering her sister’s papers and moving them to the side.</p><p>Zelda shook her head. “If Father finds out—”  </p><p>“What? He’ll<em> punish</em> you? He’s already doing that!” said Hilda, a note of hysteria in her voice.</p><p>“There are worse punishments,” murmured Zelda, pressing an urgent hand to her growling stomach to quiet it.</p><p>Hilda’s mouth went dry. “That’s as may be… but who’s to say he’ll find out if you eat a bit of bread?”</p><p>“He always finds out when I disobey him,” said Zelda, picking up her quill once more and dipping it in ink. She dragged her papers back towards her and went to work correcting a mistake she’d noticed in her Mandarin.</p><p>Hilda had had enough.</p><p>“Get up.”</p><p>“What?” said Zelda, scandalized.</p><p>“I said, ‘get up.’ You’re not staying in here. You’re coming back up the chimney with me.”</p><p>“Are you mad?”</p><p>“<em>Father </em>is mad if he thinks he can treat you this way,” said Hilda, trying to drag Zelda out of her seat. “Up you get.”</p><p>“Hilda, you’ll be the death of me!” said Zelda, struggling to remain in her seat. “I don’t want to spend another night in the Cain pit. Last time, Father slit my throat from ear to ear and I swear my voice has never been the same since.”</p><p>“Fine,” said Hilda, losing steam and letting go of her sister with a huff before dragging a second chair over to the writing desk. “Then I’ll just have to help you finish.”</p><p>Zelda put a hand to her forehead with a sigh. “That’s kind of you, Hilda, but you don’t even know the basics of Mandarin, and your Russian is atrocious.”</p><p>“It’s settled, then—I’ll do the French,” said Hilda with false cheer, producing a second quill as if from thin air. “Would you pass me some parchment?”</p><p>Seemingly resigned to having company during her punishment, Zelda stood to retrieve more paper—but this was a mistake.</p><p>Hilda watched in horror as Zelda’s entire body swayed and then crumpled to the ground behind the desk.</p><p>“Zelds?!”</p><p>Hilda rushed to her sister’s side. It appeared as though she'd fainted. Thinking fast, Hilda grabbed the tome Zelda had been translating and used it to elevate her feet. Then she went to work loosening the front-laced corset her sister wore, hoping to increase blood flow throughout her body. While she was doing that, Zelda stirred a bit.</p><p>“Praise Satan!” Hilda exclaimed, squeezing her sister’s limp hand.</p><p>“What happened?” said Zelda, trying to sit up but failing when Hilda pressed her back into the floor.</p><p>“You fainted,” said Hilda, exasperated once it registered that Zelda would be okay. “<em>Now</em>, will you eat something?”</p><p>“A bit of bread… might do me good,” Zelda admitted, closing her eyes.</p><p>“A bit of bread, yes, <em>with butter</em>,” said Hilda, sending her sister a meaningful glare as she added the last bit, as if anticipating a protest, but none came… which was frankly more concerning.</p><p>Slowly, Zelda was able to sit up. Hilda brought the food basket to the floor, quickly breaking off a piece of bread from the loaf and slathering it with butter, before Zelda could refuse again. “It’s a bit like a picnic, isn’t it? Sitting here on the floor?”</p><p>Zelda’s mouth opened and closed without a sound as Hilda handed her the buttered bread on a small plate. “Yes… I suppose it is.”</p>
<hr/><p>ii.</p><p>“Sister Spellman, a word?”</p><p>Zelda was in the middle of a tutoring session at the Academy with a couple of newly-baptized witches, but the tone of Faustus’ voice brooked no argument.</p><p>“Of course,” said Zelda, turning to her students. “Please translate these ten verses from Sacred Scripture by the time I return.”</p><p>Standing from the table, Zelda adjusted her dress, which was just a tad too tight. Not that she minded. </p><p>“Sister Spellman, I am not a patient man,” said Faustus, his eyes twinkling. Zelda had to remind herself not to roll her own.</p><p>Zelda could certainly do without his hand at the small of her back, leading her out of the Academy library into a small classroom beside it, but she’d grown accustomed to Faustus being a tactile man, incapable of keeping his hands to himself where she was concerned. There was even some sense of pride to be felt on that account.</p><p>The classroom he pushed her into was empty, and very seldom used due to its lack of natural light and proximity to a loud, bustling corridor.</p><p>“So, what is it you wanted to—”</p><p>Zelda’s words were abruptly cut off as her back was thrown against the door the moment it had closed. Faustus’ hands were on her immediately, as well as his mouth.</p><p>“Satan in<em> hell</em>, Faustus, I thought you had <em>Academy</em> business to discuss—aaah,” Zelda’s words failed her as Faustus sunk his teeth into her neck.</p><p>“This <em>is</em> Academy business,” Faustus growled into her ear. “Your blessed brother is driving me up the wall, so instead of hexing him, I thought I’d rather have his sister <em>up against </em>a wall.”</p><p>Zelda gasped as Faustus abruptly turned her around, attempting to undo the elaborate ties of her Edwardian corset, only to give up almost immediately. Whispering a spell, Faustus vanished the dress and corset, leaving Zelda in only her lace shift.</p><p>“Faustus, this really isn’t the time—or the place—”</p><p>Faustus turned her back around so that they were facing each other as he pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Zelda eventually gave up all attempts to end the encounter, wrapping her arms around his neck as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.</p><p>Eventually they broke apart, with Faustus sliding his hand up Zelda’s thigh as he continued his diatribe against Edward:</p><p>“I can’t help it that your bloody brother winds me up. He’s lecturing me on how to teach Demonology—Demonology!—which I’ve taught at the Academy for decades, long before he was Headmaster.”</p><p>“I know, but I don’t see how that has anything to do with us having sex. I’m not some sex demon you can conjure at will—” Zelda’s words were once again cut off, this time by Faustus sinking two fingers into her heat.</p><p>“You can’t tell me you don’t want this—I’ve barely touched you and you're wet as can be.”</p><p>Zelda keened as Faustus crooked his fingers inside her, pressing on the spot that always had her seeing stars. “You better hope my students don’t come looking for me.”</p><p>“Why would I do that? Let them come. I enjoy having an audience when I ravish you,” Faustus said as he circled her clit roughly. The edge of pain was just enough to make her orgasm hard around his fingers.</p><p>“My turn,” Faustus said, lifting Zelda up so that she would wrap her legs around his waist with her back still firmly against the wall. He made quick work of his own clothes; in no time at all, he was inside her.</p><p>Zelda had a hard time catching her breath, still tingling all over from her orgasm. She’d assumed Faustus wouldn’t last long, as he was hard as a rock from the moment they’d entered the classroom and he’d pinned her to the door, but just as she had the thought that things might be quick, Faustus did something entirely unexpected:</p><p>He wrapped his hands around her throat.</p><p>For a moment, it was new and exciting territory. She and Faustus had been experimenting with pain during sex for a while now, and both enjoyed it to a degree, but Faustus had never tried to choke her before. Her legs lost their grip around Faustus’ waist; she was held up against the door only by his hands on her neck and his member inside her. Her vision began to darken, even as she felt a second orgasm building.</p><p>What happened next, Zelda wasn’t sure. She felt a kind of release, unlike any she’d had before, but she didn’t have much time to ponder it, as she promptly lost consciousness.</p><p>When she woke up, she was on the ground, with Faustus whispering apologies into her hair.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please forgive me—”</p><p>Zelda felt spent, sticky, and still quite lightheaded. “What did you do to me?”</p><p>Faustus let out a sigh of relief at her return to consciousness. “Nothing, you just fainted.”</p><p>Zelda’s hand immediately went to her throat, where a ring of bruises was already forming. “Oh, and that had nothing to do with you <em>choking</em> me, did it?”</p><p>“It was just a little death. You know… ‘<em>la petite mort</em>,’” said Faustus, helping her to sit up. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t,” said Zelda, swallowing around the pain in her throat. “Don’t do that again.”</p><p>“I won’t. You passed out before I could finish. It was like fucking a corpse.”</p><p>Zelda saw red. “<em>You</em> will be a corpse if you don’t bite your tongue. It’s not my fault you didn’t get off.”</p><p>“Oh, I did. I just didn’t enjoy it,” said Faustus, sneering at her threat.</p><p>Rather than respond, Zelda whispered a hex. “There. Now you won’t be enjoying it for a while.”</p><p>Turning up her nose, Zelda transferred out of the classroom before Faustus could react to the loss of his ability to rise to the occasion… or<em> any</em> occasion, for that matter.</p>
<hr/><p>iii.</p><p>Zelda had been digging for what seemed like a short eternity. The grave needed to be done today, or Satan knew her father would haunt her until the end of her days. But it was so unbearably hot, and despite having traded in her corseted dresses for a black drop-waist flapper number that bared her calves, she was still sweltering in the summer heat.</p><p>Edward had called her outfit “offensive and unseemly,” but then, Edward hardly ever approved of what she did. It was their father’s funeral, and though Zelda knew she ought to show his memory some respect, when she reached into the depths of her soul in search of sympathy or grief… she found nothing but anger and numb disbelief that she was finally free of him.</p><p>“Sister?” came a familiar voice, though it lacked its usual cheer.</p><p>“Yes, Hilda?” Zelda stopped digging, with only a few inches left to go to reach six feet all around. She wiped the sweat from her brow, breathing hard.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that. I’ve asked Edward to handle the interment, and he agreed that he should be the one to do it.”</p><p>Zelda scoffed. “Oh, did he? He hasn’t helped with the running of the mortuary in decades, and <em>now</em> he takes an interest in burials?”</p><p>Hilda was holding a tray laden with a pitcher of lemonade and leftover finger foods from the funeral. “Won’t you take a break, at least? It’s 100 degrees in the shade, with hardly a wisp of wind to be felt. I’m feeling a bit punchy myself, and I haven’t been digging for hours, like you.”</p><p>“Yes, well…” said Zelda, thrusting her shovel deep into the ground, “I’ve always been the one to bury people. I don’t see why that should change just because it’s our father.”</p><p>Stepping closer, Hilda redoubled her efforts. “I’ve told Edward you wouldn’t go all doo-lally and fall to pieces; I know you won’t. But I just think you should leave the burying to someone else, and have some lemonade.”</p><p>Zelda didn’t respond, pointedly ignoring her sister as she continued to dig.</p><p>“Zelds, I’m not jokin’. Get out of the grave, sister, before you collapse. I don’t want to be burying you next."</p><p>With a great sigh, Zelda stopped digging. Reaching for Hilda’s offered hand, Zelda allowed herself to be pulled out of the grave. But just as she righted herself, and was about to indulge in a glass of lemonade, the earth seemed to shift beneath her.</p><p>“Zelds…? You okay?”</p><p>Zelda swayed. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know—my father died last night.”</p><p>“Oh, Zelds…”</p><p>“Don’t ‘oh, Zelds,’ me,” she said, snatching a glass of lemonade despite her dizziness.</p><p>“I think you ought to sit down—”</p><p>But just as the suggestion came, Zelda’s knees gave out. The glass of lemonade shattered, sending shards everywhere as Zelda slumped to the dirt.</p><p>“I knew it—heat exhaustion. Up you get,” said Hilda, trying to drag Zelda’s body, which was barely clinging to consciousness, away from the glass shards.</p><p>But by the time Hilda got her sister’s arm around her neck, she was out cold. No matter how hard Hilda tried to lift the deadweight, she couldn’t.</p><p>“Edward? Edward, bloody hell, I need your help!”</p>
<hr/><p>iv.</p><p>Zelda Spellman was already on her fourth glass of whiskey when there was a knock at the mortuary door. It was unlikely anyone would inquire about funeral arrangements at this time of night, so she could only assume it was a member of the Church of Night or…</p><p>Diana.</p><p>“Edward isn’t here,” said Zelda, trying to close the door, but Diana stuck her hand out to stop it.</p><p>“Good. I’m here to see you.”</p><p>Zelda very rarely found herself at a loss for words, but she couldn’t help but furrow her brow at that declaration.</p><p>“May I come in?” said Diana, her eyes flittering around as her head turned from side to side, as if she were afraid of being followed.</p><p>“We have no business with each other,” said Zelda, but nevertheless, she backed away, allowing Diana to come in.</p><p>“I would disagree,” Diana shot back, hanging her coat up herself, as if she expected Zelda wouldn’t offer to do it.</p><p>She was right.</p><p>“Would you care for a drink?” said Zelda, leading Diana into the parlor.</p><p>“No,” said Diana, eyeing the decanter of whiskey that was only half-full. “How much have <em>you </em>had to drink?”</p><p>Diana’s question seemed to be one of genuine concern, not judgment, but Zelda still felt it was a rude question. “Not nearly enough to deal with the likes of you.”</p><p>The comment stung—Zelda could tell. Diana took a seat in the armchair across from hers, nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt.</p><p>“I have a question, and I want you to answer honestly; I’m done with being lied to by the Spellman family.”</p><p>Zelda made a noise of protest, which was interrupted by the rest of Diana’s words.</p><p>“I’ve been with your brother for thirteen years now. Of those years, we’ve been married for ten. Your Dark Lord himself blessed the marriage. And yet, we’ve struggled to have a baby for all of that time.”</p><p>Zelda took a long drink, not wanting to think about what price Edward might’ve had to pay to the Dark Lord in exchange for His approval of the union.</p><p>“I’m aware of your… struggles,” Zelda said, her eyes roving over Diana’s body unwittingly, as if searching for signs of pregnancy that would never be there.</p><p>“I want to know—I need to know—if someone has cursed us. If someone has cursed <em>me</em>,” Diana said, placing a hand on her lower abdomen before adding, “I know you don’t like me, Zelda—”</p><p>Zelda interrupted her with a scoff, shaking her head. “Even if that were true—which it’s not—I would never place such a curse on a woman. It would be a heinous crime, and not only that, it would deprive the Spellman family of its only potential for heirs.”</p><p>“You didn’t let me finish,” said Diana, though she seemed momentarily distracted by this revelation. “I was going to say: I know you don’t like me, but I need your help. Except now I’m far more interested in why you seem to think Edward and I are the only ones in your family who will have children.”</p><p>Zelda stood, downing the rest of her drink and walking over to the decanter, where she poured herself another rather generous portion. “Hilda has always been a loner. She’s not terribly interested in men, as far as I can tell—at least not carnally.”</p><p>Silence stretched as Zelda sat back down with a sigh. For a while, Diana and Zelda just looked at one another, as if daring the other to address what remained unspoken.</p><p>“But why have you counted yourself out, as well?” asked Diana, a furrow in her delicate brow. “You’re a beautiful woman. There’s no reason you couldn’t marry and have a whole brood of children—”</p><p>“Let’s talk about you, shall we?” said Zelda, a warning note in her voice. “Why do you think you’ve been cursed?”</p><p>Diana seemed taken aback by the abrupt change of focus, but accepted it nonetheless. “I’ve been to several mortal doctors. I’ve gotten second, third, and fourth opinions. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to bear a child. Edward has gone, too. There’s nothing wrong with him. With no medical answer for why we can’t conceive a child, I’ve started to wonder if there might be a… Satanic explanation.”</p><p>Zelda put her drink down, relishing the way her whole body seemed to float with the buzz of the alcohol. “You’re right to think that there might be. There are witches in the Church of Night who would have no qualms about cursing you to within an inch of your life or sanity.”</p><p>Diana sucked in a sharp breath. “So, you think—”</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” said Zelda, standing abruptly, though that was a bit of a mistake, as she had to put extra effort into appearing steady and sober. “No, even if they tried, it wouldn’t have worked.”</p><p>Diana stood too, and proceeded to walk over to Zelda and take her hand. “Why wouldn’t it have worked?”</p><p>Diana was too close; Zelda could smell her perfume. It was a cheap Chantilly with notes of orange, lemon, and bergamot.</p><p>“Zelda, please, tell me why?”</p><p>Diana’s eyes were big and blue and oh so beautiful.</p><p>“I put a spell of protection on you.”</p><p>There. It was out in the open. A blessed secret, revealed at last.</p><p>Diana’s earnest face suddenly broke into a wide smile. “You <em>did</em>?!”</p><p>“Don’t make a fuss,” said Zelda, snatching her hands back. “I knew there would be witches and warlocks in my coven who were out for blood. Just because I don’t approve of your marriage doesn’t mean I want to see you cursed.”</p><p>Diana nodded, her smile growing wider by the moment. “You <em>do</em> care about me! I knew it.”</p><p>“I’m caring less and less by the moment,” said Zelda grouchily as she stumbled her way to the kitchen. It wasn’t often that she acknowledged she’d had too much, but with the advent of a guest, it seemed pertinent that she dilute the alcohol in her blood. Besides, even if she weren’t tipsy, she’d still need a cup of calming tea if she was going to have to deal with this mortal any longer.</p><p>“Tea?” Zelda offered belatedly as she puttered about the kitchen, her coordination leaving much to be desired.</p><p>“No, thank you,” said Diana, taking a seat at the table where the Spellmans usually had their breakfast. “So, you put a spell on me without my consent?”</p><p>Zelda filled the kettle and set it to boil before turning around, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “I… I didn’t think it necessary to ask. It’s… it’s not malevolent magic. It’s not even Satanic—it’s the kind of witchcraft that derives its powers from the moon. Its only purpose is to keep you safe… but if you’d prefer I remove it, I will. Immediately. I won’t have you thinking I’ve… violated you or your body in some way.”</p><p>Diana sat with this idea for some time, while the water boiled. The air between them was heavy with promise. When the kettle announced its readiness, Zelda made herself busy with a soothing tincture, desperate to calm her unusually fast heartbeat.</p><p>“I think I’d like it removed,” said Diana, though she added quickly: “It’s not that I’m ungrateful, or that I don’t appreciate you trying to keep me safe, but I’m worried the magic might have something to do with not being able to get pregnant. I’ve exhausted all other possibilities; that’s why I’ve come to you. I know you’re a talented midwife. You should be able to discover what’s wrong, even in a mortal.”</p><p>Picking up her tea, Zelda took a seat across from Diana. “It’s unlikely my protection spell would impact… motherhood. The only reason it would interfere would be if the baby posed a danger to your health.”</p><p>“If what you say is true, then I <em>absolutely </em>want you to take it off,” said Diana as she straightened her spine.</p><p>Zelda burned her tongue on the boiling tea, having forgotten it was still practically boiling. Recovering herself, she said, “Are you certain? You do understand that if it’s my spell that’s kept you from conceiving—and I do apologize with my whole heart if that is the case—it is only because you’re likely to die if you have a child...?”</p><p>Diana met her gaze without flinching. “Please, remove your protection spell.”</p><p>Zelda slammed her teacup down, not paying any mind to the boiling water that splashed onto her hands as she did. “You would sacrifice your life to give birth to a child you’ll never know? To give <em>my brother</em> a child, but leave it without a mother? I may not have been the best sister-in-law; I know I’m cold, and heartless, and rude… and I don’t show my love the way I ought to, or the way others do, but I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for the Spellman legacy, if that’s the sort of rhetoric my brother has been feeding you.”</p><p>Diana stood up, slowly, and walked around the table so she could place her hand on Zelda’s shoulder.</p><p>Zelda, for her part, wanted to shrug it off, but found the weight more comforting than she would ever like to admit. She was even, albeit begrudgingly, growing fond of Diana’s perfume.</p><p>“Edward isn’t the reason I want you to take the protection spell off,” Diana said, rubbing her thumb over Zelda’s shoulder in a soothing motion. “I want a child, more than anything in the world. I don’t care if I have to die to make it happen. Surely, you can understand that?”</p><p>Zelda’s world began to spin. Her vision blurred. She slipped out of her seat on the opposite side of Diana, because nothing was ever easy.</p><p>“Zelda?!”</p><p>Diana was quick to pick Zelda off of the floor, which, even in Zelda’s dizzy, near-unconscious state, was impressive.</p><p>“Zelda, are you alright? Do you need doctor?”</p><p>Zelda’s vision continued to blur, but she could just barely make out Diana’s worried, angelic face.</p><p>“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just… my blood pressure. It spikes and drops rather dramatically. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be sorry,” assured Diana, once she’d heaved Zelda back onto her chair. “Take a sip of your tea, and I’ll call Edward—”</p><p>“NO!” Zelda shouted, though she had to blink several times to make Diana come back into focus. “No. I’m fine. I just need a moment, and then I’ll take your protection spell off.”</p><p>Diana returned to the table, her expression uncertain. “Are you sure you’re in a state to… you know… do magic?”</p><p>“Not at this precise moment,” said Zelda through gritted teeth. “But if you’ll allow me to finish my tea, I can have the spell off you within the hour.”</p><p>Diana seemed to weigh her options for a moment before sitting back down at the table. “Alright, then. Finish your tea.”</p>
<hr/><p>v.</p><p>Marie had surely worshipped every inch of Zelda, and yet she still seemed to be discovering new places to lavish with her attention by the minute.</p><p>“Marie, please, I need to lead the evening prayers—”</p><p>“But what about <em>my</em> prayers, <em>ch</em><em>érie</em>?” said Marie, spreading Zelda’s legs and lifting them over her shoulders. “I would like to deliver them to you.”</p><p>“Marie—” Zelda said, but she lost command of her voice as Marie descended on her center with great talent.</p><p>Marie worked her into a tizzy, with tongue and mouth and fingers, all, until Zelda’s orgasm hit her so hard, she was sure she blacked out.</p><p>At least, she was sure she blacked out after she came to, with Marie slapping her face with gentle palms.</p><p>“<em>Ch</em><em>érie? Ch</em><em>érie</em>? You must return to me, <em>mon amour</em>!”</p><p>“I have,” said Zelda, grabbing Marie by the wrists to stop the slaps against her cheeks. “I think my face has suffered enough, Marie.”</p><p>“<em>Desol</em><em>ée</em>! I was so worried when I discover you to be… how you say? ‘Out.’”</p><p>“I was only ‘out’ for a little bit, and it was for an absolutely <em>delicious </em>good reason,” said Zelda, her smile brighter than Marie had ever seen it.</p><p>“Eh?” said Marie, lifting an eyebrow.</p><p>“<em>La petite mort!</em>” said Zelda, over-annunciating as if to prove she could speak perfect French with command of such a dirty phrase.</p><p>“I have seen you lost between worlds, <em>mon amour</em>,” said Marie, brushing a sweaty lock of red hair out of Zelda’s face. “I do not need to see you disappear even ‘a little.’ You understand, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p><p>“<em>Je te comprend</em>,” said Zelda, pulling Marie to the side so that they could switch positions. “But I haven’t made <em>you</em> travel in-between—at least, not yet—so I would like to try. <em>D’accord?”</em></p><p>“<em>Oui</em>,” Marie agreed, smiling into Zelda’s passionate kiss.</p>
<hr/><p>+</p><p>Zelda couldn’t help but feel guilty. She really couldn’t. The two of them were standing in the same foyer, after all, as they were when she’d turned Lilith away. When she’d abandoned the former Queen of Hell and left her for dead. When she’d put into motion the pieces that led to Lilith’s… current state.</p><p>But things had changed since then. The false idol of Zelda’s husband had been replaced with a statue of the triple goddess, Hecate. The Academy of Unseen Arts was now entirely devoted to elemental magic. Zelda herself was in a constant state of reflection, pondering the ways in which she could better serve the maiden-mother-crone every morning, noon, and night.</p><p>Lilith was not to be subdued, even in her own forced attempt at infernal attachment (but really it was an act of <em>survival,</em> which Zelda could certainly appreciate). This time the former queen was dressed in red and black—with<em> feathers</em>, of all things—nothing like what she'd worn as the demure Miss Wardwell, whom she had never truly been. Zelda herself was in a black dress with silver detailing, quite unused to wearing much else after she’d nearly died before her time.</p><p>“So, you agree the only way we stand a chance is together?” said Lilith, sauntering into Zelda’s space with a cocky expression. “I could make it worth your while.”</p><p>Knowing full well what this proposition meant, Zelda smiled. “I think you’ll find I’m a thorough… negotiator.”</p><p>And so, Zelda Spellman found herself on her knees in front of both Hecate and Lilith, lifting the deposed queen’s dress until she could sink her tongue into the woman’s heat. If they were to negotiate, Zelda thought, it ought to start here, with Zelda offering her… sincere… apologies.</p><p>It wasn’t long before their positions had switched, with Zelda’s body pressed against the Mother’s stone feet, and Lilith making a very good argument for why Zelda should never have switched religions in the first place, if the reward for her worship was to be quite so… dizzying.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic gives an explanation/motivation for several canon events, such as Zelda's refusal to let Elspeth starve, Diana's inability to conceive, Zelda's stress-related blood pressure problems, etc. I'd love to know what you thing of these points!</p><p>The title, "command me to be well," is borrowed from Hozier's "Take Me to Church"</p></blockquote></div></div>
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